


A cure for what ails you

by EnlacingLines



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, No Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Post Game, Praise Kink, Slight Breath Play, Status Effects, Top Akechi Goro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:35:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: “All done. Let’s get back home,” he says, surveying all of them, his usual leader scan to check their wellness. They’ve left the Mona bus near the platform as the debris here is too much to drive though, so the scrutiny is needed in case of a random Shadow attack.But Goro stares back deliberately, and he swears Akira’s eyes still have a rosy hue, his gait a little off beat as they leave, pulling on his gloves more times than usual as they skirt through the dark and back to the platform.-----During battle, Akira is hit by a lust spell. Goro is going to find out what exactly he saw.For Top Goro week day 6: status ailment
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 8
Kudos: 218
Collections: TopGoroWeek #1 2021





	A cure for what ails you

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, fic with significantly less plot than my last. One day, I will learn the ways of PWP. 
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta MxTicketyBoo!

“Why does this always happen on a night before I have an early shoot?” Ann mutters to herself as they dart along the tracks. 

“Go home then,” Goro answers, and she flicks at his shoulder with the end of her whip, keeping pace. 

“Nuh uh, we have a job to do. Just got to avoid bruises,” she says with a grimace. 

Goro rolls his eyes. “I’ll tell the shadows to make your life more convenient when we find them,” he says, and before she can muster an answer, the figure just in front of them spins, dark coattails flying, silver of his mask gleaming. 

“Both of you, be quiet. You’re going to get us caught,” he says. 

Ann winces, “Sorry Joker,” she mutters, but as the grey eyes find his, Goro stares back before mimicking her voice in what he thinks is a perfect timbre. 

“Sorry, Joker,” he drawls. 

A laugh filters through his ear. “Actually pretty good, your sense of humour is improving, Crow. But the Shadow is just through here, so better hang on to your asses,” Futaba states. 

Akira doesn’t bother sparing them a look before he turns to the left. “Fox, with me,” he says. 

Yusuke gives them both a disapproving look as he takes his place. 

“Good luck with that,” Ann mutters under her breath as they fall in line.

Goro scoffs. “As if it matters, we’ll see who gets the final hit,” he says, and then the two round the corner, and jump through the scarlet portal without a second glance. 

The remnants of mementos erupt from time to time, always traceable but never quite defeatable. Humans vary between rotten and conflicted in Goro’s opinion, so hearts can never truly be wiped clean. The tendrils of the god of control remain burned and salted, but the potential still lies that one will rise again. Humanity is weak in that way. 

Their powers do then, still work, despite it being over four years since the world clicked back into place as it should be. And yet it is, Goro admits, addictive to don their masks and take out the trash of this revolting underbelly of human desire. 

It just does, unfortunately, become somewhat of an issue with trying to be a semi-functioning adult with more responsibilities than just not falling asleep in high school classes. 

As he and Ann land on the other side, something about the Shadow makes him pause. They fan out into their usual formation, Akira calling orders even as the strange atmosphere permeates. For a while it’s fine; the Shadow takes hits, they take a few of their own, but they’re stronger, so Goro doesn’t anticipate any issues. 

That is, until the strangeness becomes vibrant in the air, and the Shadow produces some sort of rose-gold gun; next to him, Ann gasps, but before he’s able to react, the Shadow fires a ray, Ann unable to duck. 

“Reflexes, use them!” he yells at her as she stumbles, but when she turns, her eyes behind the red mask are wide and sea-foam green, narrow at him. 

“I hate how good you look in that lipstick I launched. That was my job, and you stole the spotlight. It’s not fair,” she screams, then launches at him. 

Goro’s so taken aback that she actually gets a punch straight to the face, sending him sprawling. The Shadow laughs, just as Ann turns to Yusuke. 

“I hate how easy you get sponsors, it’s not fair!” she screams, just before she unfurls her whip, Akira grabs her from behind. Ann immediately kicks him in the shin, and he hisses. 

“Crow, Shadow! Fox, try and snap her out of it,” he says, and Goro grins, unsheathing his serrated sword and launching forward with a cry. 

“Get the gun!” Futaba yells, and he does, slicing it in half before spinning and taking a chunk out of the Shadow. 

“Good work, let’s get to it,” Akira says as he falls back, and when he glances to the side, Ann is back, looking more determined than ever. 

“You’ll pay,” she hisses, and Crow grins as they go all out, the Shadow stumbling. 

“Looks like it might have more of Yaldabaoth’s tricks, don’t know where it picked up Sin of Envy from. Best to hit it hard and fast,” Futaba instructs, and Crow has absolutely no problem with that. 

They rain down on it, the Shadow barely catching any of them, Ann in particular desperate to take it down. It’s on its last legs when the gun appears again, but this time, they’re ready. But it seems the Shadow is aware too, feinting in a move that’s surprisingly well timed before the ray hits Joker. 

“Shit, come on!” Goro says, grinding his teeth as Akira hunches over. His voice activates whatever sin this happens to be, for when he and Akira’s eyes meet, the grey is outlined in fuchsia. He shudders, falling backwards and Goro turns back. 

“I’m done, someone sort out Joker!” he says, and Yusuke produces an oversized fan, even though Goro’s not sure that will help, as Goro lunges at the thing, hacking at it several times, the Shadow screaming in pain. 

“Crow, let me!” Ann yells from behind. 

Normally, he wouldn’t want to, but he offers one more slash and retreats, Ann cartwheeling forward and shooting it straight between the eyes. 

And they’re done. Akira, clearly recovered, takes the lead and speaks to the yellow-eyed human, sobbing on the tracks as they all give it some space. 

“Sorry, about what I said. I didn’t mean it,” Ann says, looking between them. Goro thinks it may be just a trick of the light, but her eyes do still seem a little more green than blue. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I know. You have always been so supportive, Panther. It’s simply the spell. Poor Joker got hit by lust, and I recall how distracting that was,” Fox says. 

“Lust?” Goro asks, momentarily distracted as, although he’s sure Ann doesn’t actually hate him, he is intrigued about the lipstick comment. 

“Yes. Although not helpful in battle, it was extremely inspiring. I did an entire watercolour series based on my thoughts. I am impressed by how much one's imagination can dive into human desire and intimacy, I still have them-” 

“We do not need to hear about your lust paintings!” Ann hisses, and Goro certainly agrees, but he is more interested in the man currently speaking to the shadow. As Goro watches, the Shadow vanishes, and Akira swipes something from the air, before turning and walking slowly to them. 

“All done. Let’s get back home,” he says, surveying all of them, his usual leader scan to check their wellness. They’ve left the Mona bus near the platform as the debris here is too much to drive though, so the scrutiny is needed in case of a random Shadow attack. 

But Goro stares back deliberately, and he swears Akira’s eyes still have a rosy hue, his gait a little off beat as they leave, pulling on his gloves more times than usual as they skirt through the dark and back to the platform.

  
As they do, Makoto steps out, immediately walking up to Ann. 

“Are you okay? We should probably do some scans, see if there’s anything still there,” she says, and Futaba jumps out too. 

Ann immediately starts protesting, but the team’s insistence works in Goro’s favour, enough that he can slide to Akira, who silently stands, hands in pockets, seemingly unaffected. But Goro knows him enough to see his body straighten ever so slightly at his arrival. 

“She wasn’t the only one affected. Do you need some...assistance too?” he asks.

Akira’s throat bobs with a hard swallow. “I’m fine,” he says, but the strain in his voice is a tell.

Goro steps closer, the other still circling Ann, giving him some cover. Not that he really cares of course, but the illusion is part of the joy. 

Akira, as ever, does not move, never falters when he stands as team leader. It’s that much more delicious knowing as well as Goro does how much he falls apart under his hands alone. 

“Are you sure? Being overcome by lustful thoughts in the middle of battle must have taken a toll,” he says idly, keeping his voice low but Akira’s head jerks, eyes finding his in mild surprise. 

As he’d thought, still pink-tinged. Perhaps the effect is still ongoing, and Goro needs with a sudden urgency, to know what overcame his boyfriend in those few moments. Akira is quiet in all senses, and getting him to voice what he wants unless utterly in a particular frame of mind is a challenge. A challenge Goro takes seriously and thoroughly, but the idea of Akira suddenly being onslaught with his deepest needs and fantasies is spinning in his veins. 

He lifts a clawed hand, rakes one finger across the curve of Akira’s jaw to tip under his chin, and Akira follows, mouth parting ever so slightly and Goro is seconds away from biting his lip. 

“Anything you want to share?” he says, and the sharp intake of breaths gives life to the clamouring need curling inside him. 

“Joker, I think we should head out, Panther still has traces of the ailment in her system, so I imagine you do too. Best to return to reality,” Makoto calls, and Goro drops his hand without a word. 

“Good call, let’s move out,” he says, voice steady, but Goro can see the way his arm shakes by his side. 

The others begin to the pour into the bus, but Akira hesitates until Goro moves, as if waiting for command, the shift of anticipation for the real world so clear and addicting that Goro manages to lean in close, dismissing his mask for half a second just to be able to nibble lightly on the shell of Akira’s ear, their position hidden in the shadow of the bus. 

“Don’t worry, I can wait. A little. So if you’re good, and tell me everything your filthy mind came up with when we get home, I’ll think about letting you have what you need,” he says. 

The whine Akira lets slip past his lips shocks both of them, but Akira dives forward towards his team, immediately strapping on the Joker mantle to dismiss an argument between Ryuji and Futaba, who then yells Goro to stop holding them up. 

He gets on the bus without a word, eyes glued to where Akira sits up front, resolutely seated far from Goro, but he doesn’t care. He’ll just watch, and Akira will know he’s under surveillance, and that is at this stage, apparently going to do enough. Goro’s barely touched him, and he’s already whining like he’s been spread out and plugged up. He needs to know those fantasies from the lust ailment. And Goro can be extremely convincing when he needs to. 

The real world comes all too quickly, much to Goro’s pleasure. The others band together around Akira and Ann, who both still seem to have a strange tint to their eyes when the light hits them just right. Goro puts up with it for a moment, but huffs when their fretting becomes too much. He grips Akira’s hand, tugging him back one step, grinning to himself when he moves immediately. 

“I’m sure all will be fine now we’re out in the real world. But if it’s a problem we’ll let you know,” he says, and Akira nods as Makoto and Futaba eyes them suspiciously. 

“See that you do. Ann, I’ll walk back with you,” Makoto says, and they thankfully all bid each other goodbye with only a few urges to contact if anything appears. 

Goro has absolutely no interest in doing so, but he is already formulating plans. Thankfully, their place isn’t far from here, and Akira walks close as they make their way home. 

“Are you feeling any better?” Goro asks, keeping his voice deliberately light and lilting, which causes Akira to send a glare his way. He stopped wearing the fake glasses a few years prior, all the better in Goro’s opinion, to see those frustrations and pleasures light up his eyes with no barriers. 

“I’m fine,” he says again, which is not to Goro’s liking. He looks around, then quickly pulls Akira into a side street, a small protesting noise coming at the change in direction. 

There’s no one here, which is exactly what he needs as he spins Akira and practically throws him against the brick, hand pushing against his shoulders. Akira’s eyes narrow but his breathing picks up, and Goro feels the rush begin. 

“What did I say about speaking?” he hisses, moving his face closer to Akira. 

Akira’s mouth parts, a small intake of breath, but instead of speaking as Goro is expecting, he darts forward and crushes their mouths together, Goro’s grip slipping at the unexpected movement. 

The kiss is as good as begging in it’s disparate nature, Akira actually shuddering under his hands. Goro groans, low in the back of his throat and moves forward, pushing Akira further against the wall and moving his leg between Akira’s. A moan, swallowed but still heard, is the response, Akira’s hands coming to scrabble at his waist, as he moves himself across Goro’s thigh. 

Goro smirks and pulls back from the kiss, messy and loud in the alley, before grinding his leg forward, Akira’s breath stuttering and head tipping back towards the wall. Goro leans forward, ghosts his breath across Akira’s throat but does not bite like he knows Akira wants him to. 

“Look at you, you’re a mess already,” he whispers, and Akira exhales. 

“Fuck you, it’s the spell...god, take me home, now,” he fires back just the right amount of protest and want to make Goro’s fingers spark and claw at Akira, dragging him closer, ignoring the wish to leave in the second in favour of just more of those noises, need and desperation. 

“That’s more like it,” Goro murmurs when they part, then immediately lets go and steps away, Akira almost falling down the wall at the sudden change. 

He grumbles under his breath, and closes his eyes momentarily. Goro loves this loss of control, the spiralling of a person who spends so much time keeping themselves wrapped in layers of expectations and responsibility; he’s better now at letting go, his relationships changing from that necessarily when the world is at stake. But Akira is Akira, and always finds it hard to relinquish them. 

So Goro will bring it out of him, one way or another. 

Their walk continues after a moment, and Goro abides by Akira’s want of taking him home by wrapping an arm around his waist, staring down anyone who dares to contemplate walking between them. The way Akira leans into him, a little more than he usually would in a simple journey heightens the anticipation so much that as soon as they are through the door, he’s dragging Akira by his coat through the their bedroom, Akira managing to pull off the offending article just as they enter, and almost slamming into Goro in search of a kiss. 

Goro indulges him; it is unusual to have Akira this frantic. He can barely coordinate the kiss which is fine, Goro has no issue directing his mouth, but it is a rarity. He circles Akira’s waist then lifts him before letting him fall to the bed. Akira goes with something between a huff and a gasp, but Goro knows if he truly wanted Goro to stop doing something he’d prevent it. 

Instead Akira stays prone, breathing hard and Goro surveys him from above, simply staring for a moment before walking closer. 

“Now then, I believe you owe me an answer. If you want any sort of progress this evening,” he says, looming slightly but not going anywhere near the bed. 

“Goro,” Akira hisses, hand twitching towards the clear bulge in his pants, and Goro’s own fingers itch to find out if he really is as hard as he seems to be. 

“Akira. My conditions were clear,” he says, and Akira closes his eyes, face flushing bright, biting his lip. 

It is endearing, and Goro sighs before swinging his legs over Akira’s hips, straddling without touching. Akira opens his eyes, face still aflame, and as expected, there is a slight wariness present. Still hard to speak when you think no one will listen, even after all this time. 

“Tell me, darling. What did you see,” Goro says, switching tactics, and Akira’s eyes flutter sweetly, body shaking, and Goro leans closer, hovering and waiting. 

“I...I was sucking you off,” he mutters, turning his head to the side, and Goro isn’t actually surprised that Akira’s fantasies involve giving. 

“How?” he prompts, and Akira scrunches up his face and wets his lips. 

“You lying down,” he says, and well, that’s actually a fair amount of direction from Akira. So he reaches out, gently pulls at Akira’s chin until their gazes meet. 

“If you want that, then I expect you naked. Now,” Goro prompts, moving off and leaving Akira for a second to compose himself before he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, and stands up. 

Goro watches; it’s been years and yet he still does enjoy these small moments as Akira’s skin is revealed; the contrast between his arms and stomach, the small scars that healing magic never did quite replenish. All of it his to touch and taste, done so many times and never enough. 

Any estimates on how worked up Akira is by the ailment were not enough; he’s clearly on edge, and as Akira leans over him, Goro grips his hair and pulls him down, Akira moaning as their face draw close. 

“Do you think you can last while I let you do this? Seeing as your fantasy didn’t involve you getting off,” he says, and Akira’s eyes flash with the start of a new challenge and Goro just burns. 

“Well then, seeing as you’re so desperate to suck me off, I’ll let you. Can’t have you rutting away like an animal,” he says, and Akira swallows, saying nothing, but the eagerness in his hands as he undoes Goro’s belt says enough. 

With his jeans and pants off, Akira moves and Goro accommodates him, parting his legs so Akira can lie between them, as that seems to be what he’s angling for. The first touch of his mouth, tongue lapping as the head of his cock has Goro sighing, and Akira moans as he swallows, Goro giving into the slow build of pleasure. 

Despite how hard Akira is, he doesn’t let that affect his performance. He takes his time, taking as much of Goro as he can into his throat, using his hand when he chokes, gasping for air in short breaks. Goro watches him through hazy eyes, the slight sheen of sweat building on Akira’s skin, the contrast of having him utterly naked and moaning while Goro is partially dressed being utterly delicious. 

He reaches down, giving Akira’s hair a well timed tug so he tightens his mouth, making Goro moan and Akira splutter a little. But Akira likes that, they both know it, and his boyfriend goes back with enthusiasm to Goro’s now extremely hard cock. 

“Yes, good boy, willing to do whatever I need. So pitiful, how much you enjoy choking on my dick,” he sighs out, almost petting Akira’s hair, who whimpers prettily, rhythm faltering. 

“Don’t lose focus, you’re there for one reason, and that’s to make me feel good,” he snaps, and Akira lets out a half moan of agreement, taking him deep and Goro’s back arches slightly. 

He can’t get enough of the heat of Akira’s mouth, the noises he makes, the slight shake of his hand as it pumps while Akira coughs, trying to do too much. Goro’s hands idle between tugging harshly and soothing, praise and a reminder of exactly what Akira is doing and why. 

“You’re doing so well- ah, fuck, that mouth, Akira. Always willing to be used, aren’t you?” he says, as he knows his end is approaching, and lets Akira bob his head a few times before he pulls on those curls sharply. 

“Sit up. Let me cover that pretty face of yours. Let me see you take everything,” Goro says, and Akira sits up, mouth wet and pink from his actions and that’s what sends him over the edge. 

He comes hard, painting Akira’s face and a little of his hair, who barely flinches, one eye having to close as Goro moans at the sensation and vision, limbs taut then loosening, serenity overtaking. And his boyfriend stays poised above him, breathing deep and flushed down to his chest, everything Goro could ever wish for. 

He sits up slowly, then cups Akira’s cheek, who still hasn’t moved or attempted to clean himself up. 

“Come here,” Goro says, commanding but soft, a little of the fire dimmed, and Akira starts forward, Goro turning him slowly so that he’s sitting with his back against Goro’s chest. Akira leans into him as Goro wets his hand with his tongue, then takes hold of Akira’s cock, precome helping the glide as he strokes slowly. 

Akira gasps and drops his head to Goro’s shoulder, come dripping down his face messily, but he doesn’t seem to care, hips bucking wildly, chasing the sensation. Goro sneers at him even as he strokes, slowly and rough, turning to his head slightly to bite at Akira’s neck, bared and tempting. Akira moans harder at each nip to his skin, always so needy for marks.

“Disgusting, look at you, my come spilling down your face. Did you miss out on tasting it? Here, open up now,” he says, leaning fully against the headboard so he can take his right hand, and run two fingers across the spill on Akira’s face before thrusting the fingers into his mouth. 

Akira groans around the fingers, and Goro pauses, gripping the base of his cock as Akira whines, focusing for a second in pumping the fingers in and out of Akira’s mouth, careful of his throat. His breath comes in pants, head pushing back against Goro’s shoulder in what he knows is need. He feels his whole body heat, knows Akira would actually prefer less air filling his lungs right now, but this is not the position to try that. 

“I can feed you scraps and you’ll take it. What a good boy you are, Akira,” he says, pulling his fingers out just to rest on his tongue as he resumes stroking his cock, feeling it pulse on the upwards stroke. 

If they had more time, this would be when he opens Akira up, nice and slow in his lap before fucking up until he can barely speak. But Akira is moaning in a crescendo around his fingers, tears starting to spill as he inhales rapidly, and it’s enough, more than enough to feel him unravel just from this. 

“I love you like this, Akira. Acting out all your shameful fantasies. You become a mess thinking of having my cock in your mouth, not being able to breathe, lapping up my come,” he says, and Akira whines, almost biting one of his fingers as his mouth closes, but Goro doesn’t mind, doesn’t count it against him now. 

“Yes, just like that, Akira. Show me how much you want all this. Come for me, darling, let me see,” Goro whispers in his ear, increasing his pace, tightening his grip as he does. 

He feels Akira tense just a few strokes later and he takes his fingers from Akira’s mouth just in time to hear him cry out a garbled version of Goro’s name as he spills all over his hand. Goro smiles, pressing a kiss to Akira’s sweaty temple as he strokes him through, Akira’s cries turning into whimpers as he moves to overstimulation, but Goro lets him go. 

Not now, not this time. He can feel how much that seemed to take out of him. He lets Akira just sprawl for a minute as he wipes his hand against the sheets, knowing they’ll have to change them before sleeping anyway. Akira lays boneless for a few moments, before Goro sits up, arms circling around his waist. 

“Up, come on, lay down properly,” he says, and Akira grumbles but does move, Goro having to pull back the sheets so he doesn’t just sprawl there. 

“Look at me,” he says, reaching for the tissues, and Akira does, eyes hazy and a little vacant, but that fuchsia edge has faded, the remnants of the ailment gone.

He grimaces as he cleans as much of Akira’s face as he can, but his boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind the traces of come he can’t quite extract from his hair, a small smile in place, hand reaching out trace the edge of Goro’s cheek, even if his aim is a little off. 

“You need a shower, this is disgusting,” Goro remarks, throwing away the tissue but still hovering close, leaning into Akira’s touch while stroking his hair. 

He always finds it a little unnerving when Akira crashes, those wild eyes growing dull while he fades in and out. It’s good for him, Goro thinks, this space he falls into, and yet anywhere that Akira goes where he cannot reach causes worry. But the light is ever growing, and Akira smirks even now, coming back to earth. 

“Worth it,” he says, and Goro rolls his eyes, but leans forward, pressing a kiss to Akira’s bitten lip, this time soft and warming as Akira’s arms lock around his back. 

“Love you,” Akira says, clear and easy the moment they breathe, yet it makes Goro’s heart trip and pause, the words so true in his own head in response, but they always seem to stutter and fail before his voice can bring them into being. 

“I love you, Akira,” he says after a moment, so much quieter, then ends it a kiss, deep and heavy, so much better that words even though he prides himself in being able to say them, to mean them in every essence, now that they’ve come this far. 

“Lie with me?” Akira asks against his lips, and Goro does as asked, throwing his shirt over his head and onto the floor, before settling down on his back so Akira can curl into his chest. 

“Don’t go to sleep,” Goro warns sharply, “I was serious about the shower, and we need to change the sheets,” he adds, thinking of his haphazard actions earlier. 

Akira snuggles into him pressing a kiss to his chest and then stretches out, his body pressing against Goro’s in an inviting way. He moves up, sliding with clear purpose that makes the hairs on the back of neck stand up, electric and churning, as Akira’s kisses move up his body until Akira’s leaning up to his mouth. 

“But I haven’t finished telling you all the things I wanted you to do to me,” he whispers against Goro’s mouth. 

There’s a beat, and then Goro snaps, grabs Akira round the waist and spins them, Akira hitting the pillows, eyes reignited, blinking a little heavily, but the energy back, arms looping around Goro’s neck as that smile takes on an edge of invitation.

Cleaning up can wait; it seems that Goro’s not done appeasing his lustful thoughts. And he cannot stop until he’s taken each one of Akira’s fantasies apart, piece by piece.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Come talk to me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/)


End file.
